Page 258 of Rock Me All Night
"Well then, the Arclight is a quick walk down the street. I'm sure they're playing something with subtitles."
* * *
We arriveat the Arclight just in time for a French film. Something about a woman on the verge of a sexual awakening. The plot is simple. A married woman has an affair with a much younger man. Somehow, despite all the scenes of said much younger man naked and rolling around in bed with the married women, the movie is long and slow. Mostly them screwing or talking about the meaning of life and youth and philosophy. Everything that gives foreign films a bad name. Besides the sexy naked people.
It's not all bad. We have chocolate and iced tea. The theater is mostly empty. No one comments when we laugh at dramatic parts or slurp the last drops from our drinks.
After the movie, we head back to my car.
"You know," Meg says. "I don't work Fridays anymore."
"Yeah?"
She looks at her phone. "And I just got word from my bae—"
"You did not just say bae."
She winks. "Let's just say I know where you can find all four of the members of Sinful Serenade."
"That so?"
She taps her screen a few times. "Of course, everyone who follows Tom on Twitter knows where you can find them. But let's not let that ruin our fun." Her eyes narrow. Determined. "That is, if you want to deal with your hot, sweaty guitar boy."
I nod. "I'm game."
She smiles and takes my hand. "Then follow me, sweet pea. Let's get that boy so desperate to get under you that he doesn't have a lick of blood left in his brain."
"That doesn't sound medically possible."
"Hey, you gonna trust your own medical ideas or you gonna trust the future doctor?"
She laughs with glee that would make any super villain jealous.
* * *
Istepout of a fitting room in a tank top and a tight skirt. The top is cut down halfway to my bellybutton. It's black and lacy, little more than a bra, really. The skirt is pleated and plaid. I look like I belong in a music video or on a stripper pole. Or maybe in a music video on a stripper pole.
It looks good. Sexy. Not that I've ever had a problem looking sexy. No bragging. It's just not all that difficult to appeal to the base male mind. Tight pants, lots of cleavage, red lips in a pout—done.
"Holy shit, I always forget how giant your cans are." Meg laughs. She looks in the mirror and adjusts her outfit, a crop top and skinny jeans. "I think that's going to do it."
"I have plenty of slutty outfits at home," I say. "I don't think my issue with Drew involves lack of boob-revealing clothing."
"Yeah, but you don't have it now. And right now, guitar boy needs your loving." She unlocks her phone and holds it up to me.
There's a text from Miles:
Miles: The guitar prince has blue balls again. I like your friend, but she's making my life difficult.
"He can be an idiot," she says. "But, what can I do? I love the pervert."
"You're cute together. I'm glad you're happy. Still going to medical school next year?"
"Best school I can get into, even if it's all the way across the country."
"The guy can afford to visit every weekend."
"Yeah." Her eyes get dreamy. "But I'm thinking about staying close. To my family. And to Miles. I don't want to run away from everything."
